


Monsters

by orphan_account



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Child Abuse, Family Feels, Fatherly Love, Fluff, Gen, Gender-Neutral Frisk, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, More tags will come, Nightmares, Post Genocide Route, Post-Pacifist Route, Reader Is Frisk, frisk is still young, no one kills themself, overworld, papyrus is really cute, puns, rough topics, sans gets really creepy, sticky sweet at spots, suicide-ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-02 15:02:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5252621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frisk is home with their new family, but memories keep trying to resurface in dreams and now Toriel and Asgore want to know who Frisk was before they fell into the underworld. </p><p>Papyrus learns about the overworld and just tries to fit in.</p><p>Sans is catching onto differences in Frisk that the others don't, and they remind him of a time with much more dust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The hole was wide enough that your entire house could fit down it. You kick a rock down, waiting to hear it hit the bottom. It never did. It was a very deep, very wide hole. It would be perfect for your intention. The mystery and lore surrounding this hole, this mountain, made it even better than perfect.

At the tender age of ten, you were without anything in the world. It had all been torn away from you as violently and as rapidly as it could. At the tender age of ten, you decided enough was enough, and with a hearty gulp and a few fragile steps, you jumped, perhaps prematurely.

Please understand that it wasn’t that you wanted to die, you just didn’t want to live anymore. Here, in a crevice on Mt. Ebott, no one would find your body. Here, no one would ponder why you did it, what you could’ve been if you spared yourself.

It was a long way down.

Heart pumping frantically, limbs thrashing through the air searching for something, anything to grab onto. This was a mistake. Falling hurt your lungs and air pulled on your skin and it was one long, long way down.

When you hit the bottom, you wished you were back up top.

You weren’t hurt- not even a little bit. Your heart beating rapidly and erratically but as you pulled yourself of the cold ground and looked yourself over, you were fine. You breathed uneasily and coughed anyway.  

“Howdy! I’m Flowey.” Something voiced.

You're head snapped to the side, and there it was. A flower. A talking flower, sitting in the only patch of light left from the top. Funny, because you don’t remember any sun drifting down the hole before you jumped.

Jumped. Jumped is such an awful word. It was on purpose sure but it still felt like an accident. You prefered to think that you just fell.

“Golly, you look kinda new around here, best friend. I guess it’s up to little old me to show you the ropes!”

...

That was a long time ago now. Three or more resets ago. One hundred saves ago. The feeling in your chest when you woke up left you feeling like it was only yesterday. You hurt. Everything in you hurt with a passion, like the pain from that fall only hit you just now. Looking to your side, glancing at the red letters emitting from your alarm clock, you could tell it was early. Painfully early. You wouldn’t have to get up for school for another three hours.

But you were up anyway, stomach churning, bubbling and overly active. You hardly made it out of your room and into the bathroom in time. You got most of it in the toilet, at least, and started to clean up the rest.  

You vomited whenever you had nightmares about the underworld. What you just had was mild, it had none of the bloodshed, none of the true grit that the rest of them had, but you still emptied what was in your stomach anyway.

Before you got back up to the overworld you never use to be a puker. Nerves, is what Toriel blames.

A light in the hallway flicks on. You hear the gentle swoosh of the master bedroom swinging open. Thick knuckles tap as delicately as they can on the bathroom door. “Frisk? I do hope you are okay in there.”

Asgore was always up when you did this. A light sleeper, or, maybe he never truly sleeped. He always seemed to be around when things started going sour for you.

You told him you were okay.

Asgore came in anyway, ducking just a bit to get through the doorway and smiling like it was obligation. The both of you had done this many times. Whenever nightmares happened, either Asgore or Toriel would come out and try and comfort you. You almost wish they wouldn’t. You were almost eleven now, too old for this.

Asgore softened his features. “You don’t look well my child. What was it this time?”

He was patient and waited for you to respond. You didn’t talk much. It always took you too long to form words. “...Flowey...”

He sighed, a heavy, low sigh. You let Asgore sweep you up into his arms, pressing you into his shoulder and pajamas. This was normal now. This was getting to be tradition. You didn’t bother telling him it wasn’t even a very bad dream, or that you woke up before Flowey even hurt you.

“It’s awfully late you know. You have school in the morning, the first day.” His voice rumbled.

“I know.”

“Do you think you could just go back to sleep?”

You didn’t say anything, but that told everything to the king. He carried you through the hall and placed you back down in your bed. He then left, but only for a moment you knew, and returned with a glass of water and an extra blanket.

Pulling up a chair next to your bed, he handed you your water and sat down. You hardly touched the glass, putting it on your nightstand and leaving it there.

Asgore wasn’t going to leave you. Not even if by chance that you did fall back asleep. He would sit in that chair for the rest of the night, half covered in the blanket, and wait at your side until morning came. Sometimes, he dozed off in the chair. Usually he didn’t.

Because of this, Asgore hadn’t been getting much sleep lately. For about two months this happens every few nights, sometimes you wake up crying and screaming and one or both of your new parents come running, sometimes they don’t come till they wake to your retching in the bathroom, and sometimes they don’t wake at all. But that isn’t often.

“Do you think you can still make it to school in the morning, little one?” In the dark like this shadows stretched across Asgore’s face in a funny way. He looked older. In the low light the blond looked grey. Pale. Pale like Papyrus.

You nod. You didn’t want to. Most of your school memories aren’t pleasant, but, a new school, a new place, with Toriel as a teacher even, was bound to be better.

“Good.”

You didn’t say anything in return.

“Your dream, do you wish to talk about it?”

You shake your head no. If you were to explain it to him, it wouldn’t seem that bad. But it was. You rarely dreamed of anything new. You relived memories, memories form any collection of resets, from any of the saves. This though, was the first time you dreamt of jumping like you did.

No, jumping doesn’t feel right. Falling. You fell. On purpose falling, maybe. Without thinking about it you changed your mind. “I, I fell into the underworld on purpose.”

His eyes, drooping before, shot up now. His eyebrows furrowed. “Oh?”

“Like jumping.”

Something unfamiliar creeped into his voice. “Why would you do something like that?”

“I didn’t want to after I did it.” You shut up after that. Asgore tried to get more out of you- he seemed very interested in this, why you weren’t sure but you certainly didn’t like the worry in his voice. You wouldn’t reply to any of his questions.

You didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Eventually, your new father stopped talking, too.

You might’ve fallen asleep, somehow, and the alarm went off sooner than you would’ve wished.

...

Asgore left you to get ready for the day. You put on your favorite sweater for the occasion, brushed your teeth and went downstairs.

You were greeted with the smell of Toriel’s cooking. She was at the table, talking to Asgore in a hushed tone while pancakes burned at the stove. Their backs were turned, their voices were both rumbly. You knew what they were talking about. They were talking about what you said to Asgore last night. With a feeling you weren’t accustomed to you felt like swearing at them. You told that to Asgore and Asgore alone. It was supposed to be private. He was just supposed to nod his head and smile sympathetically.  

You had a bad taste in your mouth when you cleared your throat. Both of your parent’s spun around uncharacteristically fast.

“Frisk, my child. Did you sleep well?” Toriel asked (she knew the answer to that, you thought spitefully) as she got back to the pancakes on the stove. She motioned for you to take a seat at the table and you did, sitting close enough to Asgore that you two rubbed elbows. He gave you a look that probably said he was sorry but you wouldn’t meet his eye.

No, you didn’t sleep well, you told her.

“Yes, Asgore said something about dreams?”

Yes, you had a nasty dream.

“What was it about, young one?”

“The usual.” You lied.

...

Toriel walked you to school. She said surprisingly little, but shook with anticipations. When you first met her she said something about wanting to be a teacher. Her dream was now coming true.

Your first day wasn’t bad. It wasn’t particularly good but it wasn’t bad. When the barrier broke most of the monsters returned back to the surface but most of them all stayed together. They built a community, a community you were happily part of though not many humans were.

You were the only human kid in the school, and for some reason, you found that comforting. Humans did you wrong. Monsters were easier.

...

Toriel was a good teacher, but you knew that already. She had a way to keep all the kids in the little monster school busy regardless of age. She certainly kept you busy, it seemed like she was giving you extra worksheets. She kept looking at you through when you had your head turned.

Your talk that morning hadn’t satisfied her. What you told Asgore, and what Asgore then told her, was clearly not a topic that was just going to go away.

You’d  been living with Asgore and Toriel for about two months now. You are surprised difficult topics like this hadn’t come up earlier.

...

School ended. You walked home with Toriel. On the way home, Papyrus drove past in his new car. It was red, though that was about the only similarity to his racecar bed. He had a pick up truck, and he loved it. You liked it too, because it fit everyone. Your parents especially had trouble with cars and fitting but with trucks they could just hop in the back. They always made you ride in the cab with Papyrus and Sans, though.

Papyrus honked as he drove by but didn’t stop. You watched the truck speed away (he hadn’t quite concurred speed limits yet) and noticed how the licence plate read “CoolGuy.”

Yes. Papyrus was living his dream.

You stared at his passing car too long. Toriel pulled you along.

...

You got home and it took you a little while to notice the note. In big blocky letters, it read:

_Went to the grocery store. We need milk and sugar. I will stop at Undyne’s house on the way back, will be home for dinner._

__

_-Asgore_

If Toriel really wanted to talk to you about what you told Asgore then she would certainly wait until Asgore was home to start. You were safe till then.

Instead of poking around the topic, Toriel suggested with plain face that you go to your room and start your homework.

You didn’t have much homework. You went to your room anyway.

...

You didn’t emerge from your room until it was dinner time and you could hear Asgore complementing the smell from downstairs. It did smell quite good, you admitted even though you certainly didn’t feel like eating. It was lasagna, the new thing Papyrus had gotten everyone hooked on. He said something on the level of “It’s like baked spaghetti casserole with cheese!”

You could faintly smell muffins in the oven too, probably what Asgore had gotten milk and sugar for.

You sat at the top of the stairs and waited, frozen there and debating on just going back to you're room. Before you decided if you wanted to even go downstairs, Asgore saw you up there and with two open arms he told you he wasn’t use to not seeing you during the day. You went down and hugged him for that was what he wanted, but inside you were still sour about him speaking to Toriel about you. It took longer for you to build trust in Asgore _-the way he fought, the way he_ squished your skull _just a dozen saves ago-_ and he had thrown so much of it away.

However you found it hard to stay mad at him when his hugs were so warm and his voice was so gentle. “It’s dinner time little one. Toriel has made a wonderful human food tonight called-”

“Lasagna.” You finish.

He nods. Perhaps, you considered, you could stomach that down. You certainly tried.

...

At the dinner table it was just the three of you. It was often that some of your friends showed up too. Sans and Papyrus especially liked Toriel’s cooking, and with Sans being reluctant to cook anything himself and Papyrus loving to watch Toriel as she cooked, they showed up a lot. Alphys came whenever a lot too, mostly to eat something other than instant noodles.

You would’ve loved your friends presence during this meal. You convinced yourself that they would’ve lessened the pressure. The tension was thick, palatable and bitter. No one started speaking yet but you knew that when they did it would get unpleasant. The lasagna tasted like wet socks, though you were sure that part was just you.

Then, like a knife through butter, your father Asgore cut through the unease with his rumbling voice. “Frisk,” he cleared his throat and it sounded like thunder. “Your mother and I have been meaning to ask you what your life was like _before_.”

 

Before. Before was a long time ago, you thought as you pushed the food around on your plate. It wasn’t relevant now, was it?

“Before you fell into the underworld.” Toriel clarified, mistaking your reluctance as confusion.  

You weren’t confused. No, no, but rather suddenly you were very nauseous.

“Frisk, you are able to talk to us about anything. You are aware of this, right?”

You nod almost absentmindedly.

“Then child, tell us please, what you lived like before. We’ve gotten a little worried, please understand what this is about, we are just worried.”

Your heart slowed down and only now you were aware that it had been racing.

These were your parents. They loved you, they really did. You could tell them anything. Carefully, like you were stepping on ice, you thought out your words.

 ****  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pap doesn't like the police, 
> 
> and,
> 
> sometimes your words don't work and your dreams get bloody.

2.

Papyrus didn’t know why he kept getting pulled over. Yes, he saw the sign with the number on it. Yes, he counted to that number. The numbers on the dashboard? Irrelevant.

Well, the police officer didn’t think so. The police officer was Officer Henry, one of the few human officers in town and the only one that bothered with Papyrus. Oh, he was such a stick in the mud too. He glared from under his goofy hat at Papyrus while writing his ticket and Papyrus pretended not to notice.

He hung his long arm out the window and tapped against the side of the truck, he really couldn’t be late again. “ANY WAY WE COULD HURRY THIS UP, OFFICER? I PLAN TO MEET MY GOOD FRIEND UNDYNE AT-”

“The fish one?”

He nodded. Papyrus could have sworn Officer Henry grimaced. “What’s your full name again?-”

“THE GREAT AND INCREDIBLY HANDSOME PAPYRUS. AND I’M A CHEF, NOW CAN I GO-”

Sharper than need be, the officer interrupted him. “You monsters really need to learn how things work. I’m just writing Papyrus the Skeleton on here, because none of you shits have a real last names.”

Papyrus twitched at the language. He wasn’t one for cursing, especially sense Frisk came along. He managed to stay silent while the officer finished writing the ticket and took it with a fake glee and tight grasp. “WELL THANK YOU, OFFICER HANK, I SURE HOPE OUR PATHS CROSS AGAIN BUT IF YOU DON’T MIND I MUST BE ON MY WAY.”

The officer made an indescribable face, a not pleasant one, and stepped away from the car. Papyrus was off and didn’t feel at all bad when his tires kicked dust up at Henry. He couldn’t help but think on how it was a good thing that Sans wasn’t in the car- Sans didn’t do rude. He would’ve squashed that human back there like a bug- probably. It was always hard to predict his brother.

Somehow Sans had managed not to squash any humans yet- and that was a good thing, though sometimes Papyrus wanted to squash them too. Most of them weren’t like Frisk, no, most of them were scared. Frisk had gotten scared a lot too but this was a very different type of scared. A bit resentful. Rude. Protective.  If you asked Sans he could describe them in some big -and unpleasant- words but Papyrus didn’t really know those big words- Xenophobic? Xylophone? Maybe. He just liked to use monsterphobic.

The town was full of monsters. All those who came out of the underworld came here, you think the humans that didn’t like monsters would’ve all scrammed. Well, most did. But others like that officer disappearing in the rear view mirror stayed.

...

When he pulled into the driveway the streetlights were about to come on. He was late to Undyne and Alphys’ but they hardly noticed. Undyne was just as happy to start the cooking lesson twenty minutes late. This time they were making pizza, which was created by the same humans that made spaghetti!

...

When you exited the underworld one of the first things Asgore and Toriel asked was if you had parents. You said you didn’t- and you weren’t lying, and so the pair generously took you in, neither one of them taking up any hesitance to call you their child. You belonged to them. _They loved you_.

Love.

It took some getting use to for you to think of them as your parents in return. You fought Asgore many times. He killed you many of those times. You watched him die, others. Only in the final, perfect reset did you two get your happily ever after. Toriel however, was easier to accept as your mom. You already had for the most part. She was the first friendly face you saw after you fell and the first friendly face you saw after every reset.

After about a month in your new home you had no problem calling Asgore your father. You were comfortable in your new city, with your new family, with your new friends. You adapted quickly to the lifestyle and everyone else was too.

You had done your very best to forget about the life you had before this. You had done your best to move on, but now Toriel and Asgore stood over you trying to make you tear that wound fresh open.

“We are only worried, my child.” The food sat forgotten on the table. Muffins were close to burning in the oven.

Well, they had already undone the stitches, so why not bleed a little? “...I used to be lonely,” you started, but you didn’t get beyond that. The words were getting stuck again, stuck in your throat. That happened often and your friends all knew to be patient when that happened but looking up now Toriel did not look very patient.

“Where did you live?” Asgore prompted.

“I, I moved a lot. Too much.”  
  


“Why is that?”

“I... I didn’t have parents. I moved between families.” You sighed as you realized that that probably didn’t make sense to them. Asgore and Torels would be unfamiliar with the foster system.  

“You had multiple families?”

“No. I had ...no families.” You take a deep, shuddering breath and hope your words keep on working. “That’s why I moved so much. I moved to temporary families. For a place to live.”

Toriel furrowed her brows and frowned. “Ah. I see.” She didn’t really see.

Whether Asgore found that important or not you don’t know. He wanted to move right on to the next topic. “What happened before you went to the mountain?”

The oven was beeping. Your face was twisted in an uncomfortable expression.  “I... me.... I was exploring.” Your lies stung your tongue.

“And when you entered the underworld?”

Your speech got shaky and choppy. You had to mull over every syllable. “ Jump- fell. I fall- no, fell, I fell but on purpose.”

Asgore’s eyes softened while Toriel’s looked on with confusion. “Frisk, my child.” started your father. “Can you tell me why you would do that?”

“I- I dunn- can’t. Say.” You took a few greedy breaths and tried again. _Just talk. You can talk, you know english_. “Can't can't can;t op-opp-oops. wanted. _Can't._ End." You felt like screaming. "I wanted-gone. No... Say. Can’t. I-I-I, no. No. Was running-” Your mother shushed you now in an attempt to calm you down.  You were done talking. The words were hardly words anymore. This happened, though it happened less and less as you got older and usually not this bad. Toriel started leading you to your room for you to cool down while Asgore pulled the muffin’s out of the oven.

You were aware you were crying as Toriel pulled you up the stairs. This wasn’t okay. Why couldn’t you talk Others didn’t have this problem, why did _you?_  It was always you. You’d done this once or twice to your parents but you had never completely shut down like this to them.

Would they even want you after this, after thinking you were dumb, that you couldn’t speak?

“Please my child, please, calm down.”

You replied in a harsh garbled mess.

Toriel brought you to your room, shutting the door behind but not bothering to turn on the light. She sat you down on your bed. She grabbed a kleenex from your desk and did her best to dry your cheeks. She was kneeling in front of you with a very confused expression. Her eyes were blown comically wide.

Your eyes adjusted to the dark. You could see her eyes were glossy. “M,mad?” 

She was very quick to answer. “No. No I could never be mad at you for this. Never.”

You heard Asgore himself making his way up the stairs with heavy footsteps. “No?”

“No. Surprised maybe, for I hadn’t known the extent of this speaking dilemma, but no, not mad.” He trying smile made you believe her. Asgore then knocked, and let himself in. He was a little hunched, he needed to be to get in the door, but he came to you and reached his hand out-

You flinched, hard, hard enough to knock your shins on Toriel (she let out a muffled grunt) and to send a few pillows of your bed. Asgore reeled back, surprised, and only now did you see the muffin in his hand.

He wasn't going to hit you. This was your father, the man who got up near every time you had a bad dream, even when he didn’t have to.

“Srry, srrrrr.”

Toriel took you by both arms and made you look at her face. You did. Slowly your heart rate calmed down. You let out a half sob, half garbled mush. “Shush now.” You shushed.

“Frisk, I, I...” Asgore was a loss for words. He hadn’t looked that guilty since, since the times you fought.

You gave him a regretful look, he set the muffin on the desk and walked out. Toriel stayed with you though neither of you said anything. You both curled up on your bed, you pressed into her side, and she stayed there until sleep tugged at your eyelids.

...

Asgore wouldn’t meet your eye as he killed you. He proved too much, and talking to him got you less than nothing. He stood above you, his giant foot pressing down on you, your ribcage struggled underneath it. Looking up at him now, he was terrifying.

Everyone told you he was a pushover. Everyone had told you that you could just talk to him. Everyone but Toriel, anyway. You missed Toriel.

You cried out for help. For Undyne. For Pap. For Sans. For your mother.

And then... “I’m sorry little one. Travel well.” With a look so pained you would think Asgore was the one getting crushed to death, he pressed down, then stomped. The crack got in your ears, the crack of all the bones in your chest breaking, your little heart splitting in half. It wasn’t a painless death, but it was over with a quick exhale.

But that wasn’t it. A save loaded. You fought Asgore again, you tried fighting this time along with talking, but the talking got messy. You couldn’t get the right words out. He gave you a sympathetic look as he got his trident out. You were weak. He defeated you again, this time weakening you with the flame magic over a couple turns, then finishing you by swiftly grabbing you're head, pressing you against a wall, and pushing. Your skull cracked before you got to see the look on his face. He probably did that on purpose.

Another save.

You didn’t want to fight him again. This time when he asked if you had anything you wanted to take care of first, you almost turned tail and ran. You would’ve ran back to Snowdin, you would've emptied everything to Sans and Papyrus, you would’ve told them about every reset, the saves, _the deaths._ Then you would've called Toriel until she picked up, you would’ve called for days if need be.

But.

That didn’t seem like an option. Instead you entered battle with Asgore again, desperate for this to be the last time. He shattered the idea of mercy. Shakily, you told him that he killed you twice already.

He sighed, and his voice nearly cracked when he looked you in the eye and said that he already knew.

You didn't understand how he knew. The fighting began again.

...

When you woke up in a cold sweat but dry of tears, Toriel was no longer in bed with you. She left. Looking to your side, glancing at the red letters emitting from your alarm clock, you could tell it was early. Painfully early. You wouldn’t have to get up for school for another three hours.

In your head, you heard that crack. It was immediately nauseating 

You vomited again, as is the routine after every underworld dream. You got all of it in the toilet this time. Asgore, ever the light sleeper, ever the patient father, got up again. He knocked on the bathroom door as lightly as one could with hands as big as his. He let himself in, ducking to get in the doorway.

 _ **  
**_ And when you looked to him, you saw both your father and the man that crushed you to death. When you asked him to leave you alone, your words worked just fine.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pap gets to see what humans are doing to his friends, and Frisk starts to become aware of thoughts that aren't theirs.

 

It was getting late when Papyrus decided to just stay at Undyne’s for the night.  He wasn’t too good at driving in the dark yet, and Undyne suggested it herself. Alphys, who had the townhouse connected to Undyne’s, said he could go over there if Undyne got too intense.

 

He was prepared for the intense. He was not prepared to be woken up in the early hours of the morning by the sound of incomprehensible screeching. It was the sound of asphalt eating at tires, he knew though it took him a while to figure out. He dreamed that sound so often when he longed for a racecar. After reaching the surface he realized it was a much more harsh sound than the movies made it out as. 

 

The sound came from just outside, louder than Papyrus thought it could, and he was up in an instant. Rising from the couch the skeleton could see was a car racing off in the distance, the motor just a rumble. Some of the streetlights were out. The mailbox was at a very funny angle. Something about it rubbed Papyrus simply the wrong way and he pulled himself to the front door, opening it and then shutting right after. 

 

“UNDYNE, THERE IS A FLAMING PAPER BAG ON YOUR DOORSTEP. IT LOOKS SINISTER.”

 

“Whh... WHAT!?”

 

“I THINK YOU SHOULD GET OUT HERE. IT WILL BE EASIER TO EXPLAIN IF YOU ARE TOO LOOKING AT IT.”

 

Undyne came out of her bedroom without turning on any lights. She wore just a tank top and shorts, her hair was down and kelp falling in her face so she let it. The woman rubbed at her eyes and only grumbled when Papyrus motioned to the door. She grasped the handle as firmly as she grasps someone’s hand for a handshake, which is to say, very firm. Papyrus no longer shook her hand.  “If you’re getting me up at four for this it better be good-.”

 

Sure enough, on her doorstep there was a brown bag slowly crumbling to fire, and now admitting a truly awful smell. “SHIT!” she yelled, suddenly alert and seething with something Papyrus wouldn’t call anger but worried him anyway. 

 

“YES, I DO BELIEVE SO,” Papyrus agreed.

 

“No, like, SHIT!” She slammed the door.

 

“YES, I BELIEVE WE ARE BOTH ON THE SAME LEVEL WITH THIS.”

 

“What, I, I , oh fuck.” Undyne retreated to her kitchen and came back into the living room now holding a broom. She opened the door, and like a golfer she swung the broom and hit the bag all the way into the street. It fell into a few different pieces. “Third time this fucking month. I swear if I catch them I’ll- fuck. They got at my mailbox too! It’s in fucking pieces!”

 

Undyne stomped into her lawn. Papyrus at least turned the porch light on first. Undyne bent down by the curb and did her best to pick of the pieces of her mailbox, formerly shaped as a fish and painted blue. Bits of it were spread from the post, to the curb, and to his truck in her driveway. Alphys made it for her, Papyrus thought, for Alphys had a similar one shaped like a rocket. It was probably special to her, the way Papyrus’ bone shaped pot holders were to him.

 

The crickets chirped. “UNDYNE, AH, WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY ‘THE THIRD TIME THIS MONTH?’ WHO IS DOING THIS?”

 

She didn’t look up when she replied to him. “You know how, how some humans aren’t really fans of us being up here?” He nodded slowly though the other wasn’t looking. “Well, the ones that don’t like me kinda wanna show it in an obvious way, I-”

 

“THEY LEFT YOU A FLAMING BAG OF HUMAN WASTE.”

 

“Yeah and now they got my fucking mailbox too, the cunts. “

 

“This is normal?” Papyrus didn’t like seeing Undyne crouched over like that. It wasn’t natural. She only ever was with a stiff back and confidence. She was the one that taught him to be confident. 

 

“I told you Pap, some people really don’t like monsters. I’ve, I’ve really done my job of pissing them off extra too. They’re cowards though. Won’t even fight me, just drop _ shit  _ off at my house.” 

 

“Has it ever been worse than just  _ ‘shit _ ?’” Papyrus asked while holding out a hand to her. She took it but instead pulled him down so he was sitting on the lawn too. The grass was soft. The human world was full of small comforts like this.

 

“I mean threats and stuff, especially on the phone and online. Real nasty shit sometimes, man.”

 

“Like what?” A few ants crawled on his legs now. He flicked a spider away so it wouldn’t do the same.

 

“Just- nothing you need to worry yourself over, alright? Just promise me one thing.”

 

“Anything you wish.”

 

“If anyone ever starts pulling this shit on you, tell me, and I’ll shove a spear up their ass.” 

 

Together they sat there and watched the bag of shit in the street burn out, and they stayed their till the sun rose for neither of them would be able to get back to sleep. Morning came slowly.

 

...

 

Later, when Papyrus waved goodbye to Undyne and was about to get into his truck- he noticed something odd. The front side sagged, when he put his arms on the hood and pushed down, the whole thing bounced and then sunk lower. Seeing something was wrong, Undyne walked over and then froze. 

 

Wordlessly, she bent down by the driver door and cringed. 

 

Someone had slashed the tires. 

 

...

 

Asgore stared for a second. His eyebrows curved up, his mouth slightly agape to show all the pointed teeth. He looked at you incredulously, as if usure to believe what came out of your mouth. You told him again but the words didn’t come out as pretty this time.  _ “Leave me alone.” _ Your voice cracked.

 

“Frisk, I, I, what is wrong?” He took a few steps forward, bending to his knees and reaching a hand to your shoulder- the same hand that  _ crushed your fucking skull. _ You pulled yourself as far away from him and that hand as you could til you were pressed in between the wall and the toilet. You could puke again. 

 

“Please leave.” You felt like crying, but you weren’t. You doubted tears would come even if you tried. Your father was at a loss for words, his hand still reaching out, hoping you might calm down and take it. You wouldn’t look at his face because you were sure he would look beyond betrayed right now.

 

You were sorry. You were so so sorry but  you couldn’t get past the fact that this man killed you, killed you numerous times. Killed you like Undyne did. Like Sans did. Why you were more concerned with him killing you than either of them you didn’t know but right now you needed Asgore  _ gone.  _

 

He was talking again  in his low thunder voice, a voice usually calming. It took you too long to make out what he was saying. “Frisk. Look at me, my child. I need you to calm down, I need-” He was scootching closer. Why was he getting closer? You wanted him to leave, you wanted him gone.

 

He reached out to get you out of the corner. You flinched from him and  _ screamed.  _

 

Screamed loud. The kind of scream that sends the neighbors bounding over to check if everything is okay and the kind of scream that makes Asgore cover his ears in pain.

 

Toriel came running. 

 

...

 

You clung to your mother because that was all you could think to do. Asgore and Toriel exchanged frightened, confused glances because that is all they could think to do. Wait- they were talking too. Asgore was rushing through what just happend at lighting speed and Toriel only interrupted for clarifications. You couldn’t make out what they were saying, your ears were too clogged and your breathing was too loud. 

 

You were sorry. You were so sorry. You said this over and over into Toriel’s shirt as she held you, and she only rubbed circles in your back and held you tighter. 

 

You hiccuped and tried to explain yourself, but your mouth was mush. 

 

You were a mess. You were a bad child. You were _ ungrateful _ , you were  _ undeserving- _

 

You hadn’t realized you said any of that out loud until Toriel snapped at you. “ _ Shut up _ . Shut up. You are none of those things, my child, none of those things.” She sounded near tears. 

 

Asgore finished explaining himself and you were sure Toriel looked as confused as he did. They wouldn't get it. You couldn’t explain. She started leading you back to your room. Asgore got far out of the way, looking at the two of you passing with an unreadable expression. You shouldn’t have done that to him. You wanted to cling onto him too. You wanted to tell him that he killed you, but that wouldn’t do any good. Only Sans and Alphys knew of the resets, the saves. Even so, you wanted nothing more than to break open at that moment and gush to Toriel and Asgore. You wanted him to apologize and hold you close without you freaking again. You wanted Toriel to tell you everything would be okay. 

 

Toriel lifted you and carried you to your bed at the same time the doorbell rang. You both ignored it.

 

Looking at your mother, you felt the need to go into another gush of sorrys all over again. You didn’t think your words would work well enough for that. This was your second breakdown this night, you realized as Toriel pushed you down into your bed and sat down next to you again. You both curled up on your bed, you pressed into her side, and she stayed there without leaving this time. 

 

“My child, I’m so sorry.”

 

You didn’t know what Toriel was sorry for. 

 

“M’too.”

 

...

 

Your scream really did alert the neighbors. Grillby and his daughter herd your peril and Grillby raced over. Asgore did his best to tell Grillby you were fine, but damn, your scream had been convincing. Frisk had an exceptionally vivid nightmare, Asgore said. They panicked.

 

Well, he wasn’t lying. 

 

Grillby, puzzled but no longer believing anyone was dying, left a little reluctantly. 

 

...

 

Toriel turned her head to look at your alarm clock. “My child, school starts soon.”

 

“Don’t wanna.”

 

“Yes, I, I feel like it would be best if you stayed home today. I, however, cannot.”

 

She was going to leave you. You didn’t like the sound of that. 

 

“Let’s go downstairs, I’ll make you some breakfast, and we’ll plan the day, hmm?”

 

Reaching downstairs, you found that Asgore already thought of breakfast and beat Toriel to it. He always over cooked it. You smelt burnt toast. Looking into the kitchen, you saw your father crouched over the stove working on eggs. He looked funny like that, so bent over. It would help him out if the stove was another foot higher. 

 

When he turned towards you, his eyes lingering on you a little too long, he looked dead tired. He hadn’t slept. He hadn’t had good sleep in a long while now, thanks to your nightmares.  He looked old. You,  _ you _ made him look so old. “Ah. You’re both awake.”

 

Toriel greeted him, but was watching you. They both were. What did they want? An explanation probably. 

 

“I, I’m sorry little one. Are you feeling better.” Damn him for being so nice. He didn’t even know what to be sorry for. 

 

_ ‘I’m sorry little one. Travel well.’ _

 

You shook your head. Thoughts like that needed out. Gone. You needed thoughts like that gone, you-

 

“Frisk.” Toriel’s voice was like silk. 

 

You hesitated. “Yes,  I do.” _Did you now?_

 

Toriel lead you to the kitchen table and sat you in the tallest seat. She took a seat next to you and watched Asgore finish up making breakfast. He set a plate along with a fork and knife down in front of you and you took a bite. It was okay. The knife felt funny in your hand.

 

“Frisk, I know this is probably something you don’t want to talk about but I need you to tell us if you are okay,” Toriel said though you were looking at Asgore. He sat across the table from you and seemed to crumble on it, his posture terrible for once, his tired eyes expectant. 

“Asgore killed me,” you blurted. It didn’t feel like you were talking, but those words certainly came out of your mouth. “Wanna know how?”

 

Your parents were looking at you funny know. Of course they were. You would be too. Before either of them could interrupt, you went on and you're voice dripped with something you weren’t familiar with.  

 

“He collapsed my ribcage and lungs. He squashed my skull. He speared me with that fucking trident. He, he _ killed _ me.” Asgore flinched with every heavy word, his face covered in guilt. It was a common look for him, or at least it used to be. Did he remember? Did he remember?

 

Toriel gaped. “Frisk! What are you going out about?”

 

They didn’t know. They would never know. “I’m, I’m sorry. “

 

...

 

You kinda spazzed out after that, filled with a familiar feeling that you couldn’t place and didn’t want to. Toriel, not being able to miss the second day of school, and Asgore, wanting to keep his new job down, couldn’t stay home with you. Toriel called someone and you heard things like “I don’t know what came over them,” “they have been having such a hard time lately, I am beside myself- we all are,” and “I am afraid to leave them alone right now. Could you please babysit?”  

 

You kinda wondered who she was asking for a few minutes before figuring it was Sans. Sure he was lazier than Undyne and Papyrus but he wouldn’t set the house on fire or accidentally spear you. 

 

You wouldn’t mind Sans coming over. With Sans, he at least was aware of the resets and saves. Possibly more aware than you. Maybe you could talk to him about it?

 

_No._ Don’t you remember that he killed you? That skeleton, he killed you after  _ you _ killed everyone.

 

That... That was right. You are vaguely aware of that though any memories you try and recall are just fuzzy. 

 

Seven-Thirty struck, and your parents got ready to depart. Neither Toriel or Asgore hugged you goodbye when they left, but instead gave you careful looks and make sure you knew their cell numbers. “Sans will be here within the hour. Please be good for him, won’t you? And if you are having trouble again, I am only a phone call away.” 

 

Then they left you. _Everyone left you though, didn’t they? No one ever kept you long enough to give you a real home, huh?_

 

Frisk stood frozen in the doorway, wondering where the hell that thought just came from. They were still standing there when Sans showed up. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've ever written for Undertale. If you enjoyed it, please tell me so. Things will start picking up soon. If you want to go yell at me on my tumblr, here it is. http://captainolddog.tumblr.com/


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